Snow tracks and sidetracks.

Snow is amazing.

Living in the DFW area, it's incredibly rare that we get anything more than sleet and ice once or twice a year. So, when I woke up at 1 in the afternoon and realized that my only class that day was canceled due to "averse weather conditions" (7 inches of snow), I did what any red-blooded American college kid would do - I went back to sleep for another 2 hours.

When I woke up again, I sat in my warm, comfortable room, and talked to a few friends over the internet for about an hour before deciding it was finally time to go outside and have myself some fun. Being the Texas-bred individual that I am, I quickly put on pants, Underarmor, ski bibs, a t-shirt, a huge jacket, a beanie, and the biggest boots that I had, in order that I would not even get the slightest bit chilly when heading out into the cold. I didn't have any gloves, but I had pockets, so I was all good.

Walking outside with camera in hand and phone in pocket, I proceeded to watch quite a bit of people having a good time sledding, sculpting, fighting, and generally enjoying the once-in-a-Texan-lifetime opportunity. However, since most of my friends were nowhere near the action, I decided to simply observe for the most part, and take quite a few pictures.

That changed when I was charged by a lone individual. My hands occupied with my camera, I was helpless against the three-snowball onslaught, and made a semi-distressed noise as the white spheres of doom exploded upon my protective layers. I was not prepared for such savagery! The girl who invited me to join the war shortly after confirmed my thoughts - I could no longer stand by idly.

It was an epic battle.

What began as two sides of 20-versus-10 quickly morphed into 20-versus-10-versus-7, and then to 40-versus-5, and then to approximately 50-vs-50. Snowballs flew, soldiers fell amidst the icy field, orders were shouted, and allegiances were formed and broken subconsciously by the frantic warriors. At one point, a lone individual darted through the carnage wearing nothing but red boxers and brandishing a bright green towel as a rallying beacon, skilfully avoiding the barrage of death-spheres being flung at him by the opposition and working his way back to his defenders, who allowed him to re-dress in safety.

However, all good things must come to an end, and I left for supper as the snowball war was winding down, grabbing some very good pictures on my way to the dining hall. Walking inside forced me to remove a layer or two, only to re-prepare them for the trek back. As I returned to the earlier scene, only a few scarce individuals remained, the forts and giant snowballs and igloos the only testament to their earlier existence.

Now you may be thinking, "Well, that's a great story, but what does it have to do with anything aside from you having a great time and getting amazing pictures?" Well, keep reading, and you'll see.

Essentially, my day was a collection of examples of Christianity - everything from outsiders' responses to our own actions.

Feel free to go back and re-read them if you wish - everything below this line will still be here when you get done.

Ready?

It starts at the very beginning - from the moment I first looked out the window and saw the snow. While my initial reaction was that of pleasure, I soon realised simply from the chill coming from the window that it was much more comfortable outside. Sure, there was an undisturbed world of excitement and adventure waiting for me, but there was also a warm bed and several more hours of sleep to get. Surely I'd have time to do it later; sleep was more important.

This mentality of "well-sure-it's-good-but-maybe-later" is pervasive in both the lives of Christians and non-Christians, and always has been. While we may be willing to give up some things, the more difficult requirements of Christianity are generally ignored (Matthew 19:16-22), preferring to stick with what we know and are comfortable with. It is clear that we don't really need to worry about anything that we give up in order to more thoroughly immerse ourselves in Christianity (Matthew 19:27-30, Luke 12:22-34), but we worry about these types of things anyway, and generally keep them held tight, preventing us from fulfilling our potential. It's something that I still struggle with quite a bit.

While I was tempted to draw some form of metaphor between bundling up and resisting the parts of Scripture that we find less appealing, I do not feel that such a point needs addressing at this particular moment, and so I have opted to skip it in favor of the next. This is not meant to imply that a valid point cannot be made; I simply feel that making such a statement is not my place at the time.

Let me continue, then, skipping far ahead to the snowball fight. I had imagined more comparisons when I originally conceived this note, but I feel that this one is the most essential, and I intend to flesh it out as fully as possible.

In this note, snow is symbolic of God. The pure, vast, untampered fields of snow that fell (and were clearly visible along the highway on my drive to work later that night) struck a solemn chord somewhere within me, and the only thing that I could think to compare them to was our Creator. Even though it was a scant 7 inches of snow, the entirety of the city seemed to be blanketed with perfection - a truly calming, somber experience (and one that I will likely not see again, should I continue to live where I do).

However, man is ill equipped to leave such things as they are, or to handle them in their state. Throughout the day, emergency sirens sounded constantly as individuals failed to recognize the power of the snow and ice and sent their vehicles plunging into guardrails and other cars, or sent their rears plunging to the concrete beneath their feet. Many of the fields soon became warzones, and the once-pristine blankets of snow were rapidly turned into countless defenses against equally countless offenses. While a bad time was had by few and a good time was had by many, at the end of the day, those parts of the snow that had been played in were unquestionably altered by men to fit their temporal needs.

Please don't get me wrong in this - I love snowball fights. I am simply making a point, and snow happens to be my tool for doing so this time.

Throughout history, mankind has constantly corrupted the public face of the Church for their own gain. From the Indulgences sold by the Catholic church in the Middle Ages to modern-day bigots ignoring New Testament commands in favor of Old Testament doctrine, people never stop attempting to use God's word to somehow prove that they are superior to others. This occurred in Biblical times (Acts 8:9-25, Acts 19:13-17), and it is still occurring today.

It seems to me that ultimately, the root of this issue is humility. When people firmly believe that they have in their possession a means to control anything, it is a very simple matter to cease considering the viewpoints and concerns of others while remaining confident in your own, unshakable position.

This is true of nearly everything, not just Christianity. The various Islamic factions continue their infighting, the conflicts in the Middle East show no signs of ending, nuclear research in Iran and North Korea continues despite warnings and sanctions, evolution is widely taught as fact with no attention paid to its numerous flaws, heads of major corporations continue to embezzle funds, corrupt government officials in our own country and in all other nations continue to behave as if they are above the law... the list goes on. The simple fact of the matter is that humility is not something that comes naturally to most people, and this is plainly, painfully evident.

It should be remarked, then, that Jesus was not only a staunch advocate of humility, but also a firm practitioner of it. He did not surround himself with religious leaders and prominent individuals, but instead ate and accompanied tax collectors (who were despised at the time) and 'sinners' (Matthew 9:10-13, many more). He did not proclaim himself a mighty ruler and instantly overthrow everyone, but allowed himself to be treated absolutely terribly, in order that something much more important than himself could be accomplished.

The world is expected to be shallow, materialistic, and prideful. However, as a Christian, "Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant" (Philippians 2:5-7). We are expected to live as Christ lived, which entails a great deal of humility. We, as humans, are not above reproach, and it is guaranteed that we will be rebuked, corrected, debated (and the like) by both those who follow our God and those who do not. Regardless of the circumstances, however, there are clear outlines for our behavior (Mark 12:29-34; Ephesians 4:2-3; Colossians 3) and a clear definition for what those entail (1 Corinthians 13), and we would be foolish to abandon the greatest tools at our disposal in a vain attempt to preserve our pride.

Milk is nice... I'd like a burger.

I bet if I told you that I seriously believed that Voodoo could kill people, you'd wonder how on earth I was allowed to write things and still consider myself a Christian. After all, Voodoo is just witchcraft and can't possibly work, right? I mean, all those little dolls with pins and junk, needing a hair or something from someone's body, that's surely impossible, because God said so, right?

Well, actually, Voodoo can kill people. Sometimes. I'll explain why in a minute.

The more pressing matter is this - what did that statement just do to you?

You've just heard a Christian author claim that people can die to Voodoo, and also claim that he could prove it.

Here's a guy who has written all this stuff that you probably agree with (at least part of it), and now he's sitting here telling you that voodoo can kill people? You may be wondering, "If he can claim that, what does that say about his faith? And if his faith is terrible, then what does that say about mine?"

It's a common dilemma that I think the vast majority of churchgoers face in this day and age. Many - I'd even argue most - people who go to church just show up, listen to the pastor, take everything that he says as the absolute truth about the matter, and go no further. If this was a parable, they'd be considered the seeds that fell on the rocks (Matthew 13:21-22). So what happens to them when this paragon of righteousness, the embodiment of their faith and everything that they believe, does something stupid, and ruins themselves?

I can tell you what happens.

A church down the street from my house faced this situation. They had a decent-sized congregation, an active youth ministry, and everything was going rather well... until their pastor ran off with an 18-year old girl from the youth group, leaving behind a wife and two kids and an entire congregation of people who lacked a solid foundation of faith.

Their attendance bombed. Driving past their church on the way to my own, I would see (at times) only a literal handful of cars in the parking lot on Sunday morning.

Now, it's possible that some people stopped coming just because they didn't have a consistent pastor anymore, and it's possible that some people stopped coming because they were "upset with how the church handled the whole situation," and it's possible that some people just started going to other churches, but does it really seem likely that at least 100 families would just pack up and leave, yet keep their spiritual walk completely intact? I haven't done any interviews with anyone who was in the church for that incident, but I sincerely doubt that they're all ok.

It's a shame, really, but not just because a supposed man of God just destroyed his family.

The people in that church who lost their faith due to the actions of a single man are people who will have missed out on countless weeks, months, or years of ministering to those around them because their roots were not firm. The long-term implications of this are massive. Imagine if one person way back in the beginning of the Church had decided that he didn't really believe any of it, and that there had to have been some earthly explanation for what happened? He may have only failed to witness to 50 people before he died, but how many people would they have witnessed to, and how many would their new believers have witnessed to, and so on?

It breaks my heart to hear about people who have decided that they no longer believe what they used to claim to love. Unfortunately, today's Christianity doesn't truly grasp the gravity of the situation.

Pastors are great people to know - I highly recommend that if you don't know at least two by a first-name basis that you go find some to meet - but believing in a religion because a pastor told you to is a terrible way to believe. Believing because someone told you that it was good or because someone said you'd go to Hell if you didn't or because it's the trendy thing to do in your town isn't even worthy of being called a true belief.

By the way, that thing about voodoo? Totally true. When people who truly believe in Voodoo magic get cursed by a witchdoctor, their sympathetic nervous system goes into overdrive - basically, their entire body goes hyperactive, doing way more than it should ever do. To compensate, the parasympathetic nervous system slows everything down. In some cases, the parasympathetic nervous system actually slows down the body enough that the heart stops, and the individual dies. Crazy, huh?

Anyway, back to the point.

Consider Christianity a profession. For some people it is, for others it's not, but for the sake of the point, assume that Christianity is something that you honestly want to do for your whole life, like psychology or quantum physics or dentistry something else absolutely fascinating. Assume that you plan to be successful in the field of Christianity, make a living, and support the people that you love with what you reap from your profession.

Logically, if you're serious about pursuing this choice, you'll do everything you can to learn about it. You'll buy all the required reading, you'll dig through it constantly in order to find new things to learn, you'll share what you've just found out with people who probably don't care but oblige you anyway because they can tell that you're passionate about this field...

...does this sound like the Christian faith today?

Write the answer next to that line, please.

The answer is, "No, it doesn't." It might not even sound like your own faith. I'll confess, up until fairly recently it didn't even sound like mine.

As Christians, it is our duty to spread the Good News of the Resurrection to everyone that we possibly can (Matthew 28:16-20), but how can we honestly expect to do that if we can't even commit to learning what we're supposed to be teaching, and can't bother to live like we actually care about our message? It'd be like a first-year pre-med student attempting to instruct a random passer-by in the fine art of neurosurgery, or a high schooler who just took an Advanced Psychology class attempting to give a dissertation on the finer points of Freud (a pretty important psychologist), We don't assume that someone who lacks the basic knowledge of brushing their teeth can properly perform a root canal on us, why should we expect that we can be proper witnesses for Christ if the only time that we open our Bibles is on Sunday (if even then - after all, the words might be on the big-screen, so you don't even have to bring your Bible!)?

Paul writes about this in Hebrews 5:11-6:3 and 1 Corinthians 3. He wants so badly to keep instructing people, but he can't, because they don't even have a firm grasp on the basic knowledge that they already should know!

It is vital that Christians base their faith not on the words of a faulty, mortal pastor, but on the truth that is Jesus (1 Corinthians 3:10-11). A proper foundation is the key to a sturdy building (Matthew 7:24-27), and the only way to gain a proper foundation is to ensure that Jesus is the center of your life, of your thoughts, and of your actions.

How convenient is it, then, that not only is Jesus supposed to be the foundation (and cornerstone) for our faith, but that the most efficient way to seek Him is through His self (John 1:1-5, 1:14; )?

It's stressed constantly in church that Bible study is important, that prayer is important, and so on, but the reasons for this are often glossed over with pretty, Churchy terms, and as a result, tend to roll off the backs of those who already consider themselves good Christians. The thought that always went through my head was "I don't really need to read, I know it good enough anyway."

That changes when you're proven wrong by an atheist.

I spend a great deal of time interacting with people on various forums over the internet, and it's honestly been a blessing - I never realized how completely ignorant I was about what I believed until I was confronted by someone who knew very strongly what they believed, and it wasn't what I had been raised.

I got demolished, to put it politely.

That's what happens when you don't have any roots.

Since my mom is a gardener, I've had a bit of experience with trees - planting, uprooting, and the like. One time, we planted a tree out front, and it died within a year. It then became my job, as the only male who was at home when Mom finally decided that the tree needed to come up, to pull it out of the ground. Keep in mind, this tree hadn't even been there for a year.

It was one of the most physically challenging things I'd ever done. Even after so short of a time, the tree had already begun poking out of the little sod cylinder that it had been purchased in and started setting its roots in the hard Texas soil. I finally got it out, with help from a shovel or two and a sister or three of mine, but it took quite a bit longer than I'd expected.

If you've never seen pictures of trees that have been ripped up after a tornado hits, I recommend finding some. They're absolutely incredible - sometimes, entire root systems will be just sitting above the ground, bits of mud and dirt caked all over. Those roots are why trees don't fall over unless something absolutely, impossibly powerful comes along. In order for a fully-grown tree to be moved from its place, something almost supernatural has to occur.

This is a rather appropriate metaphor for how our faith should be.

When you first buy a tree, it comes in a plastic base filled with some form of nutritious dirt. It can survive in this little plastic shell for a while, but eventually it will suck all the nutrients out of the dirt and it will die. You can't avoid it. If you want your tree to grow, you have to take it out of the plastic base and plant it the appropriate depth in the dirt.

If you want your faith to grow, you have to take it out of the plastic shell of the Sunday morning sermons and the church building and plant it in Jesus. If you don't, it will be unable to take root in the truth that is Jesus, and it will die. If you leave your faith in the little plastic bin, anyone will be able to come along, take it, and plant it somewhere that it doesn't belong - let's just say Antarctica. However, if you plant your tree in good soil, care for it, and nurture it, then with God's help, it will grow into something massive, unmovable, and absolutely amazing.

Christianity should be like a forest, not like a tree farm.